Oliver Wood ~ More Than Just Looks
by tranquil light
Summary: *CHAPTER 2 IS UP!!*Oliver Wood is depressed because of his too-encouraging mother, his father torturing him to change his job, and his fans, who love him just because of his looks.Will he ever find someone who looks on the inside instead of the looks? R/R
1. Chapter 1 ~ That Bloke

Chapter 1 ~ That Bloke  
  
"If you feel like leaving,  
  
I'm not gonna make you stay.  
  
If you feel like leaving,  
  
You can run you can hide,  
  
But you can't escape my love."  
  
- "Escape" by Enrique Inglesias  
  
Oliver rolled over in his Quidditch-embroidered blankets and sheets, trying to fall asleep, although knowing it was highly impossible. He groaned and shifted in his bed. "Why can I never get a decent sleep when I need it the most?" he thought as he opened one of his eyes.  
  
His entire room was like a Quidditch stadium. Stickers of Quaffles, Snitches, Bludgers, and Broomsticks were imprinted on the wall, although enchanted so that they swayed gently back and forth. His team's poster, The Puddlemere United, was taped to his wall. He could see himself smiling like a mindless idiot with the rest of his team. Oliver groaned and stuffed his head into his pillow again.  
  
There was a sudden knock on the door that startled him. "Come in," he said, sitting up in his bed.  
  
The door opened and an elegant woman in her early 40s strolled in with a large plate filled with bacon, eggs, and an enormous stack of chocolate pancakes. Oliver almost began to drool, but stopped himself in the process.  
  
"Good morning, Oliver!" the woman greeted, kissing Oliver on the cheek.  
  
"Morning, mum!" Oliver replied.  
  
"Thought you'd want some breakfast in bed today," she told him, handing him some utensils. "To get away from your father."  
  
Oliver smiled in thanks as he began to eat. "Thanks mum," he said thickly through a mouthful of bacon.  
  
His Muggle father, named Joseph, was always trying to pursue Oliver to do something else besides Quidditch. "Why don't you always do something else for a change? Like be a businessman or something?" his dad always asked. And Oliver would always reply, "Because Quidditch is a passionate thing that I enjoy. What's the passion in being a businessman? What IS a businessman?"  
  
Oliver ate the rest of his breakfast eagerly, his mother watching in complete silence. "He may be right you know," she said out of the blue.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Oliver asked.  
  
"Well, you know…you're father," his mother replied, biting her nails as she said so.  
  
"You really shouldn't bite those nails," Oliver reminded her. "And besides, you're SIDING with him? You really want me to be a businessman? A stupid bloke who always wears a suit and always carries a briefcase and makes phone calls all day, yelling at people while doing so? That has no passion; and it doesn't involve flight. That's what I want, mum."  
  
His mother sighed. "I suppose so. Just take his thoughts into consideration."  
  
"I have, about a billion times. And the answer will always remain the same – no."  
  
Her mother turned around on her slipper and said, "Well you better hurry up; you don't want to miss practice."  
  
Oliver stood up and took off his Quidditch t-shirt that he always had on when he went to bed. He glanced in the mirror and sighed. "That's all the girl's go for, don't they?" he asked his reflection. "Looks. An 18-year old Quidditch Keeper with looks. Why don't they ever get to know the personality?"  
  
Oliver piled on his Quidditch robes and grabbed his Firebolt II. He concentrated hard on Puddlemere United's stadium, and with a quick POP, apparated there.  
  
He was immediately greeted by cheers from his teammates. The Chasers, Rose Wittle, Samantha Connell, and Melanie Turmitt, all winked at him as they headed for their lockers, getting their broomsticks. The Beaters, Daniel Ewler and Jude Neetman, waved quickly as they headed onto the pitch. And the Seeker, and Oliver's best friend, Mark Cleese, patted him on the back.  
  
"How've you been doing Olly?" Mark greeted, smiling cheerfully.  
  
"Pretty good thanks," Oliver lied, clasping his broomstick carefully.  
  
"I don't buy it, Ol," Mark sensed, leading Oliver onto the pitch. "What's going on? Come on ~ you can tell me!"  
  
Oliver sighed. Mark always seemed to know how Oliver felt, even when Oliver was trying to hide it. "My father," he began, but those were the only two words that came out of his mouth.  
  
"Aye, you're father," Mark said, in his thick Irish accent. "Bloody right lad, ain't it?"  
  
"Ah…not exactly," Oliver answered truthfully.  
  
"What's up?" Mark asked.  
  
"He's asking me to stop playing Quidditch…" Oliver said.  
  
"OH! He didn't?!" Mark cried exasperatedly, mounting his broom. "That's terrible! You should put a curse on him immediately! Probably the Jelly- Legs curse, although I'm quite fond of Petrificus Totalus…"  
  
"Stop!" Oliver cried, although he smiled. "I'm not going to put a curse on my own FATHER, Mark!"  
  
"Why not? I do it all the time!" Mark said.  
  
"Because," Oliver began, "he's my father. I'm not going to put a curse on him just because he doesn't like my career."  
  
Mark shrugged. "I guess so. Or maybe you're just merciful."  
  
"I am not!" Oliver argued. "I'll tell you one thing, though ~ we won't show any mercy to the other Quidditch teams though! We'll snatch the Quidditch Cup right underneath their brooms!" He mounted his broom and flew in the air, cackling all the way.  
  
He flew towards the goals, ready for any Quaffle that came flying his way. He stopped his "keeping" however, when he noticed a pack of girls in the stands, laughing and pointing.  
  
"Oh my God!" one of the girls shrieked. "Oliver Wood is looking at me!"  
  
"No way!" the other girl cried. "He's looking at ME!"  
  
"Oh, for bloody sake," the third girl said while rolling her eyes. She didn't look very happy. "What's so special about that bloke anyway?"  
  
"That bloke?" Oliver thought, catching a Quaffle while listening to the fans' conversation.  
  
"Everything is special about him!" the first girl countered, her annoying shriek ringing in Oliver's ears. "He's so gorgeous…"  
  
"…And talented," the second girl added.  
  
"And cute…" the first girl explained.  
  
"And did you hear his accent?" the second girl cried. "He's like Mr. Perfect!"  
  
"I bet you don't even know what he likes!" the third girl yelled, stopping the whole practice.  
  
"Of course we do!" the first girl argued. "QUIDDITCH!"  
  
The third girl rolled her eyes again and stood up from her seat. "You guys are pathetic. I'm out of here."  
  
Oliver squinted his eyes and looked at the third girl. She looked very familiar. "OY!" he shouted, but he was interrupted by a sudden Quaffle, which struck him in the head.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Are you all right?" Oliver's father, Joseph asked.  
  
It was after the practice, which ended abruptly by Oliver's accident. He had a minor concussion and a bruised eyebrow, but besides that, he looked fine.  
  
"Victoria! Fetch the boy some ice, please! I think his eyebrow is cut!" Joseph instructed.  
  
"Why do I look like, a bloody nurse?" Oliver's mom, Victoria, cried back. "Why can't he just use a spell to make his cut go away?"  
  
"Sorry…I don't know spells!" his father yelled back, shrugging.  
  
Oliver groaned. "It's all right, dad. I got it."  
  
"I told you ~ you should quit that bloody team! Quit Quidditch altogether! It just results in accidents all the time!" his father roared.  
  
"You can get accidents from anything!" his mother countered. "Accidents happen all of the time! You could be driving to work one day and all of a sudden get hit by another car! Accidents always happen!"  
  
His father remained silent for a while, but soon thundered, "I know that dear! But the risks for more accidents are higher while playing Quidditch!"  
  
"Give it a rest dad," Oliver insisted, rubbing his head.  
  
He stood up and headed for his room, where his wand lay, propped against his bookshelf. He hadn't used it in a while ~ he usually just apparated and disapparated and gone to Hogsmeade. He didn't feel the need to use his wand now. All he needed was his broomstick.  
  
He sat down on his bed, rubbing the dust from the wand on his robes. "Let's see if I remember this," he wondered, pointing the wand at his eyebrow. "Repario Jurimento!" A spark shot out of the wand and placed itself on Oliver's eyebrow; it was immediately healed. "A-ha!" Oliver cried in triumph. "I'm still a great Wizard!"  
  
An owl suddenly fluttered to his window. "Hello Chippy!" Oliver greeted, to his sandy-brown owl. "You got letters for me?"  
  
Chippy bit his finger affectionately and stuck out her right leg, which had a piece of parchment rolled around it.  
  
Oliver took off the letter and game Chippy some water and some food before he flew off again. "I wish I could do that," Oliver sighed desperately. "Just soar off whenever I feel like it; without a broomstick."  
  
He unraveled the parchment and glanced at the letter.  
  
Dear Oliver,  
  
Hope you're all right. That was a pretty nasty hit. I think that fan club distracted you, am I right? Bloody females. Always distract you. Anyways, if you're not feeling too good you don't have to come to practice tomorrow but try to come for Saturday ~ we need to practice for the Quidditch World Cup, you know…even though it's still 4 months away…we still need to practice! Anyways, if you're still not feeling all right, I guess that's okay. But you better be ~ after the practice the team was thinking of going out to get a Butterbeer! Owl me back soon.  
  
- Mark, Seeker and Captain of Puddlemere United (pretty good one too, eh?)  
  
"You don't have to brag about it!" Oliver said, reading the last line. He looked out his window, trying to look for Chippy, but he was long out of sight. "No point in writing a letter now I guess ~ I got no one to send it for me!" Oliver cried, jumping on his bed.  
  
He lay on his back and glanced again on the too familiar poster of his team. He looked at his picture again, and wished that he was absent on the day the photo was taken. "I look like SUCH an idiot!" he thought, closing his eyes. "And that's all girls go for, right? Looks…they must not like me in that picture if I look like an idiot!"  
  
Oliver opened and closed his eyelids constantly. He didn't know whether to stay awake or go to sleep. Another sudden knock on the door made him decide.  
  
"Want some dinner?" his mother gestured, bringing in the familiar plate piled with delicious foods.  
  
"Sure…thanks, mum!" Oliver answered.  
  
"Are you sure you're all right? You haven't been hit by a Quaffle in a while," his mother asked, beginning to eat off of another plate, containing her food.  
  
"I'm fine mum," Oliver assured her, finishing his dinner off. "Honestly."  
  
"Honestly?" his mom asked, cocking her head. "I haven't heard that word in a while. You've always been making excuses…and lies."  
  
"HAVE NOT!" Oliver protested, setting his plate on the ground.  
  
"See ~ there's another lie!" his mom chuckled. "Listen ~ me and your father are going out tonight ~ if you maybe wanted to do something with your friends, then we…I have no problem with it. Your father may, but who bloody cares right now? We're…concerned about you, Oliver. Not because of the businessman-job thing, but because you may be a bit obsessed with Quidditch. It may be blinding you from other good things in life. Like trips, friends…girlfriends."  
  
"MUM!" Oliver reacted.  
  
"Sorry, it's just that," his mom began, trying to find the right words. "It's just that ~ there's all these fan clubs for you, all these girls obsessing about you ~ maybe you should find the right one."  
  
"'All these girls' that you're talking about are just obsessed with the way I look and play ~ they barely know a single thing about me, except that I really enjoy Quidditch," Oliver explained, remembering the three girls from the Quidditch Practice. Then he remembered the third girl, who had walked off in a huff. "Maybe someday I'll find a girl who doesn't think that way."  
  
"Let's hope so," his mother sighed, picking up Oliver's plate and stacking it upon her own. "Now, listen…if you're bored or if you wanna go out with your friends, that's fine by me. All right? Just be home by midnight."  
  
"Okay, mum, thanks," Oliver responded, trying to get his mom to leave. "Have a great time tonight."  
  
"You too, sweetie," she smiled, as she closed the door behind her.  
  
"I doubt it," Oliver sighed as he propped his head against a fluffy Quidditch pillow. "If only I could get away from this all…for just one night."  
  
He rested his head on the pillow, and stayed asleep in his room ~ maybe it was a great night after all. The only way he could escape his trying-to- help-but-not-really-helping mother. The only way to escape his father torturing him to take another job. The only way to escape his ballistic and hysterical fans, and also the mean ones. The only way to escape…everything.  
  
"If I only I could escape it forever," Oliver sighed, as he dazed off into a peaceful sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There's the first chapter of my Oliver Wood story! I hope you enjoyed it ~ I really love Oliver Wood and I wanted to make a story. Tell me what you think!  
  
And please ~ no flames. Strictly nice things, and if you really don't like it, make it in a professional way (e.g. "I didn't enjoy this because…" NOT like this "This sucks! I hate this story!") If you do like it great – and if you do, I'll keep writing about my favourite boy (and hopefully it's yours too!) 


	2. Chapter 2 ~ That Girl

Chapter 2 ~ That Girl  
  
"Girls, I can't even know one,  
  
Girls, but I'm gonna need her all the time.  
  
Girls, I don't know 'bout your girl,  
  
Girls, but I know she's judging mine."  
  
- "Boys" by Britney Spears feat. Pharrell  
  
The sun slowly peeked through Oliver's Quidditch curtains which meant a start of another day. "Or the start of another nightmare," he thought as he took his blankets off and sat himself up in his bed. He felt considerably better and could no longer feel the bump on his head.  
  
He half~expected his mum to show up with a plate full of breakfast as usual, but after a while he began to lose hope. He was confused beyond belief on what he should do that day.and the rest of his life.  
  
His father was so obsessed with the concept of Oliver becoming a businessman that it began to make Oliver wonder, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. Because if he did actually become a businessman his life would be dramatically different; he would escape from all of his wild fans and from the publicity and spotlight, but then again, he'd have to wear a suit and carry about a briefcase for the rest of his life and that was something he definitely didn't want to do. And he'd also miss the passion of Quidditch.  
  
If he actually did obey his father, which was a rare thing coming from Oliver, then he certainly wouldn't miss his hysterical fans. It was good to have fans that supported you, but Oliver agreed with that girl ~ they didn't seem to know a thing about him, they just liked him because he could fly a broomstick and look good doing it.  
  
Except for one certain 'fan'. He didn't even know if she was really a fan, more of just a friend who tagged around with her friends who were.just obsessed. But she had a certain point of view that Oliver adored. He wasn't even sure if she liked him at all, or if she hated him, but she certainly wasn't obsessed or adoring over him because he was supposedly good~looking and could catch quaffles really well.  
  
For some weird reason, Oliver couldn't get her out of his mind. He didn't even know her name, and he hadn't even seen her close up, but something about her was different. And different was sometimes very good.  
  
He wanted to see her again, but he didn't know how. If he went to Quidditch practice, which was now in twenty~five minutes, he'd have to face those wild fans again. He'd get to go on his broomstick again, but he'd probably get hit with another quaffle again when a sudden idea struck him. He would go to Quidditch practice and see if that girl was there and if she was he'd try and make a way to talk to her.  
  
"But what if she doesn't even turn up?" he asked himself over and over as he came up with the 'plan'. "She's like the snitch waiting for the seeker to catch it ~ except I'm the keeper. She's the quaffle ~ and I have to catch her and make sure she doesn't slip through. But I don't know how I'm going to do that."  
  
With his last thought still in his mind, he decided to get up. He took a nice cold shower to refresh him and got dressed in his Quidditch robes. He began to approach his door and reached for his broomstick which was near the door when at once, he was reminded of that poster that was hanging on his door. He looked at himself, grinning like an idiot, and Mark by his side. He sighed. "I can't wait 'til photo day this year," he thought sarcastically as he made his way to the kitchen.  
  
The next scene that flashed through his mind dazed him. All he wanted to do in the kitchen was grab a piece of toast before disapparating and then going to the Quidditch stadium, but what happened next was just pure horror.  
  
"MUM?" Oliver cried. "DAD?"  
  
Perhaps it was because Oliver had always seen his parents fighting that he never imagined this to happen. But there it was - his mum and dad were lying on the couch together, cuddling closely. It wasn't a disgusting scene, just a shocking one for Oliver.  
  
"Well, um," Oliver began, noticing that they were both fast asleep, "I'm uh, going to Quidditch practice. I'll see you later."  
  
He closed his eyes and concentrated deeply on the Quidditch stadium and in a flash he appeared in the locker rooms. It was a bit too quiet, Oliver thought, as he walked around the locker rooms. No one was in sight, so he figured that they had already begun practice.  
  
He reached the exit and opened the door a smidge to see what was going on in the field. Sure enough, the team had already started practicing and they were trying hard to do something without a keeper. There were no fans in sight.  
  
Oliver sighed and decided that he should just do practice because now he was assured that he wasn't going to get hit with a quaffle, but he was slightly disappointed that the girl who wasn't obsessed with him wasn't there. He was about to open the door wider so he could go out onto the field, when three sudden voices stopped him.  
  
"Oh come on, just one last time!" a familiar voice cried.  
  
Oliver went to the other side of the locker room and opened the entrance door a tiny bit so he could see what was going on. He saw the back of one girls head and two of the girls were facing her and grabbing onto her arms.  
  
"We'll go to the library afterwards!" another girl promised her.  
  
"Parvati and Lavender, NO!" another girl answered.  
  
Oliver was suddenly reminded of his Hogwarts days when he was the keeper and captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He remembered that there were two girls that were also in his house ~ Parvati and Lavender. And the third girl must've been the one from the Quidditch practice yesterday. But who was she?  
  
"Oh come on already!" they begged the third girl.  
  
"No, go on without me," the third girl told them.  
  
"Fine," Lavender said, turning away. "It's your loss." The two girls stalked off to the field, and Oliver knew this was the perfect opportunity ~ and maybe his only opportunity. He decided to take it.  
  
"Um, hey," Oliver greeted as he opened the door wider and stepped out.  
  
The girl apparently looked bored with the thought of greeting him. "If your looking for Parvati and Lavender they went to the stands," she directed him.  
  
"Actually," Oliver began, "I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"M-me?" the girl replied. She looked completely shocked. "Why me?"  
  
"OLIVER!" a girl shrieked.  
  
Oliver turned around and found Parvati and Lavender racing over to him. Oliver groaned quite loudly as they reached him.  
  
"Oliver," Parvati panted. "We've been looking all over the place for you."  
  
"You weren't playing on the field," Lavender continued. "We thought you might be injured."  
  
"Well I did get injured," Oliver reminded them. "I got hit with a quaffle yesterday."  
  
"Oh, right," Lavender said, who apparently had forgotten.  
  
Parvati had just noticed that Oliver was talking with her 'friend'. "Why are you talking to her for?" Parvati asked.  
  
"That's what we were just about to find out," the third girl told her.  
  
"Look and listen, Oliver," Lavender began, "you really are wasting your time. Why the hell would you want to spend time with that kind of girl? She's really not your type."  
  
"But I think we're your type," Parvati assured him. "We're your biggest fans. We simply adore you."  
  
"I think I can tell who's my type and who isn't for myself thanks," Oliver snapped in a nasty tone. Oliver didn't know what had come over him. He was just plain sick of them but afterwards he thought that he sounded a bit too mean if that was possible.  
  
Everyone had shocked looks on their faces and Parvati looked completely stunned. "Excuse me?" she asked in a disbelieving voice. "What did you just say?"  
  
Oliver gulped and swallowed hard. He felt like he was about to start a Quidditch match - anxious and excited. Except this time it was a negative anxiety. He was glad that Mark showed up when he did.  
  
"Hey, Oliver!" Mark cried as he ran over to him. "I heard some chattering, and I figured it was you. What are you playing at, coming in late to practice? If you do that one more time then I'm afraid I'll have to kick you off the team!"  
  
Oliver eyed him carefully and saw in the look in Mark's eyes which were telling him he was definitely less than serious. They both broke in hysterics as the three girls watched them.  
  
"Aye, I'm only joking, you know?" Mark told him. "So are you coming to practice or are you too preoccupied with these three gorgeous ladies?"  
  
Parvati and Lavender both pouted and giggled flirtatiously at Mark and Oliver, but the third girl just stood there, emotionless. Oliver noticed that she was beginning to look familiar too, but he couldn't remember her name. It was as though it was on the tip of his brain, but he couldn't get to that tip.  
  
"I'm coming," Oliver told Mark. "I just need to finish up this conversation."  
  
"Of course," Mark said, bowing a little and turning around. "As you command."  
  
Oliver smiled gratefully and turned to Parvati and Lavender. "I apologize for my rude comment," he began.  
  
"Ooh look he's apologizing!" Lavender cooed.  
  
"He's so sweet.and gorgeous!" Parvati giggled.  
  
Oliver sighed and continued, "I didn't mean to say it too rudely, but you've been quite rude yourself. I appreciate you being fans, but you shouldn't try to insult a girl that I've just met and make bad impressions of her."  
  
The third girl looked up at him, amazed.  
  
"Now," he said slowly, clearing his throat and smiling, "I have to get to Quidditch practice but it was nice um.meeting you all." He leaned in closer to the third girl which made Parvati and Lavender gasp as Oliver whispered, "Can I talk to you later today? After the practice, right here at the entrance?"  
  
The girl nodded and smiled slightly, not knowing what to do.  
  
"Well see you later!" he said, almost directly to the third girl. Parvati and Lavender didn't seem to notice that it was to the third girl however and began to giggle and coo and talk about how they adore him.  
  
Oliver walked back into the locker room to retrieve his broom and stepped out onto the field to begin the practice. He hopped onto his broomstick, feeling like he hadn't flown in days, and kicked off of the ground as hard as he could, swooping up to the posts.  
  
Mark flew over to him and tried to catch the snitch, which was right in front of Oliver. Oliver watched as he held it in his hands for a few seconds and let it go again.  
  
"The girls just fawn over you, don't they?" Mark asked him as he chuckled.  
  
Oliver chuckled as well. "Yeah I suppose."  
  
"And how does it feel Mr Wood?" Mark inquired. "How does it feel to be the sexiest man in Quidditch today?"  
  
Oliver felt like he was about to fall off his broomstick from laughing so hard, but then reminded himself that his father would certainly tell him to quit if he had two accidents in two days, and he stopped himself from falling off. "I guess it feels pretty good Mark," Oliver replied in a sarcastic voice.  
  
Oliver's stomach suddenly rumbled as they continued to practice. "And how does it feel Mr Wood?" Mark repeated. "How does it feel to be so preoccupied with gorgeous girls that you have no time to feed your wee stomach?"  
  
"It guess it feels.pretty bad Mark," Oliver replied as he caught the quaffle once again. "Damn! I forgot my bloody toast!"  
  
Mark laughed. "What distracted you this time?" he asked. "Was it the girls? Was it your father? I told you, just hex the lad. I'm sure he won't mind!"  
  
"And I'm telling you, I won't do that no matter how much he annoys me," Oliver replied. "And it wasn't the girls or my father.it was my father AND my mother!"  
  
"Huh?" Mark said, halting his broomstick for a minute. "What do you mean.both of them?"  
  
"Yea," Oliver answered, ducking as a bludger came swerving his way. "They were lying on the couch together sleeping and that, I think, is a rare thing."  
  
"Wow!" Mark exclaimed. "Now that IS a rare thing.amazing, really."  
  
"You're going crazy Mark!" Oliver told him. "You don't have to be that concerned about my parents, all right?"  
  
"All right, all right," Mark said. "You don't have to get so uptight. Anyways, let's change the subject. What's up with those three birds?"  
  
"Their girls Mark!" Oliver cried. "GIRLS! Not birds!"  
  
"Right right," Mark said, although he didn't appear to be listening. "But what is up with those three birds? They don't seem in the stands but why were they talking to you earlier?"  
  
"I don't know," Oliver replied. "I mean two of them are just crazed fans but the other one is.different."  
  
"And different is sometimes very good," Mark finished for him.  
  
Oliver looked up, amazed. "How is it that you know my thoughts?" he asked, puzzled. "Are you turning into Professor Trewlaney?"  
  
"Let's hope not," Mark answered. "She's hideous! And she's a fraud. I guess I just know you too well, mate."  
  
Practice eventually ended and Oliver hopped off his broom refreshed and ready for his little chat with that mystery girl, even though during that little chat he hoped to find out her identity.  
  
Oliver ran into the locker room and took a quick shower before going to talk to her. He wrapped a white towel around his lower half and sighed as he looked at his reflection once more in the mirror. Melanie whistled as she walked by.  
  
"Nice six pack," she complimented.  
  
Oliver blushed but at the same time felt infuriated. "Is that all you care about? The skin? Because if so, I'll be glad to rip it off!" he yelled.  
  
Melanie looked taken back. "That's not all I care about," she replied softly. "I was just complimenting you because it seems that you work out a lot. You have a charming personality, Wood, but not when your yelling at me for three words!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Oliver replied, feeling extremely stupid. "I didn't mean to take my anger out on you. It's just."  
  
"He's sick and tired of girls just wanting him because he has looks and because he's famous," Mark finished for him as he, too, walked out of the showers with a towel wrapped around him.  
  
Oliver glared at him with a small smirk on his face and nodded. "Yeah, what he said," he told Melanie. "Anyways, do you forgive me?"  
  
"Yeah, I forgive you," Melanie smiled. "See you at tomorrow's practice!"  
  
Oliver piled on some regular Muggle clothes and looked at Mark. "Time for my meeting," he informed him.  
  
"Yeah, good luck lad!" Mark called after him as Oliver went to the other end of the locker room.  
  
Oliver sighed nervously as though trying to calm him down. He slowly opened the door with his eyes closed and walked out.  
  
Taking another step he opened his eyes to face the girl and was about to greet her when he realized.there was no girl facing him. He looked in the dark hallway. To his left he could see some lush green grass from the Quidditch pitch but it was empty. To his right he spotted the exit to the stadium, and there was no one there either.  
  
He felt like collapsing on the ground, but instead he ran to the exit of the stadium and walked into the Muggle streets of London. Instantly, the Quidditch pitch faded and was replaced with a very large mansion as a disguise for the Muggles. He looked around and didn't see the girl anywhere.  
  
Oliver felt like breaking down right there in the Muggle streets, but he was already receiving odd looks from the Muggles from exiting the "mansion" so suddenly.  
  
Where was that girl? And would he ever see her again? Miserably, he walked back inside the stadium to retrieve his broomstick. Everybody else had already left and he decided that he would ride his broomstick once more before going back home.  
  
He climbed on and kicked off of his broomstick hardly once again. He flew as high as he could, above the posts, and into the clouds. He felt at peace here, and tried to think about other things than that girl, but he couldn't stop thinking about her and why she didn't show up like she said she would.  
  
After a while he decided to reach back to the ground and head home since it was getting fairly late. He swooped down again and did a few loops before setting down on the ground again with his eyes closed as though he was reflecting.  
  
It wasn't until he heard a few footsteps on the soft grass that he opened his eyes again.  
  
**************************************************************************** *****  
  
A/N: OOH! Cliffhanger, right? *lol* Well, I'm sorry it took me so long, I've just had writer's block for so long *hits muse in the.head?* But anyways, I managed to get Chapter 2 up and I hope I can do as well with the rest. THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! They really overwhelmed me! Thanks for all the encouraging thoughts, especially from Loverina (used to be Juvenus), and I'm glad everybody likes it! Chapter 3 will be up.um, I'm not too sure, but it'll be up in a shorter period of time than the time that it took to get this chapter up, if that makes any sense! See you all later! Here's my individual thanks (I really didn't expect 17 reviews!):  
  
sparkly-glossy-girl - I'm glad you like it! I love Oliver Wood stories too! And about the pairing that you mentioned? Well.you'll find out!  
  
Loverina - Sorry it took me so long to post but I'm glad you like it!  
  
LOTR&HPLver - Yeah, I think it's great that someone likes him because of something else besides his looks but um.sorry to say, I'm not that girl. *lol*  
  
Oliver Lover - thanks for the cheese! It was a bit moldy because it took me so long but anyways.*lol* I'm really glad that you review all my stories, you really are too kind!  
  
hunny - My dad constantly bugs me as well and so I know how it irritates Oliver. I wish I could hex my dad though.  
  
Riley - Tell you more? What's more to tell? It's OLIVER!  
  
Kim - here you go! You found out.hope you enjoy it!  
  
fdshfsdf - you tend to right "w/e" for all my fics.why? *lol*  
  
Slytherin Angel - wow!! I'm blushing too much! "The best I've ever seen"? Wow, don't keep your hopes up because I don't know if it's really that good but I guess you can see for yourself! I like your fics as well!  
  
Ollie Wood's QT - Sorry it took me so long but I agree with you - everybody's obsessed with the looks (including me) and I just wanted to write this. Even though, you know, you were talking about Sean, I understand. *pats you on the head awkwardly* Anyways, glad you like it!  
  
HPGal - Hmm."written with great detail"? "This is a really great story"? You've got me blushing too! And for the question about "do we know the third girl?", here's my answer: maybe, maybe not! Hee hee.I love being mysterious.  
  
HyperKat - Sorry, I didn't reveal the third girl in this chapter but don't worry I will!  
  
HPGal - you reviewed twice and I thank you! Yeah, Oliver IS hot! ^_^ Anyways.*lol*  
  
L5 - Sorry it took me so while (so many apologies).but here you are!  
  
i luv oliver - Here you are! I've continued! *Cheers*  
  
Loverina - glad you understand and of COURSE I remember you! Who wouldn't? Thanks for the bit about liking all my stories! Cheers to you as well and thanks!  
  
Oliver's gurl - thanks!  
  
CHAPTER 3 WILL BE UP.SOMEDAY SOON! 


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